


Exhale

by QuillFeathers



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Female My Unit | Byleth, Garreg Mach Monastery (Fire Emblem), Gen, Introspection, Post-Canon, vague reference to character(s) death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25538545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillFeathers/pseuds/QuillFeathers
Summary: It is only when at risk; a gasp or a catch, stutter or rasp, that the consciousness takes note.--On easy breathing; and its cost.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12
Collections: In Time’s Flow





	Exhale

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a companion piece for [Exhale (A Place To Rest)](https://fe3hfm.bandcamp.com/track/exhale), by [LuciHolland](https://twitter.com/LuciHolland), and accompanied by [dewream's](https://twitter.com/dewream) gorgeous art! All part of the incredible project/fan album [In Time's Flow.](https://fe3hfm.bandcamp.com/album/in-times-flow)

Breathing is a subconscious thing. 

At rest one is hardly aware of it. Upon waking in the morning, no one remembers if it is on an inhale or exhale, chest rising or falling in that very moment. 

It is only when at risk; a gasp or a catch, stutter or rasp, that the consciousness takes note. 

There's little of Fódlan left untouched, after the war, but life goes on; soaks in the peace and breathes easier. 

When the war ends, the world exhales. 

Byleth wakes to the early glow of sunlight flaring through the window. She usually robs herself of any chance of sleeping in, leaving the curtains partially open, but it was always good to let moonlight into a shadowy room. To allow the eyes to adjust to the dark rapidly if needed. 

Old habits die hard. 

Sitting up, her arms go above her head in a stretch, reaching to the ceiling while she habitually scans her surroundings. Two days' worth of clothes are draped over the desk's bench, a pair of bags are shoved against the wall beside a pair of well-worn boots, and there’s a stack of papers haphazardly discarded right by the door. The bit of disarray only makes a smile flicker across her lips. Her days are never quiet here, at Garreg Mach Monastery. Not as a professor, or a commander in the war, nor as the steadying symbol of peace and change that she is today. 

And it has been quite a busy few days, with extra visitors and provisions crowding into Garreg Mach, all in preparation for the academy's reopening. 

Byleth has one early morning meeting, followed by a few blessed hours for visiting the handful of familiar faces that will be present. The actual ceremony is to take place at midday, followed of course by a celebratory feast. 

She'll never not enjoy the feasts. 

Byleth hops off the bed, grabbing the simple breakfast waiting outside the door along with a fresh pitcher of water. She takes bites of fresh bread and fruit between washing her face and running a comb through her hair. A bath can wait until before the feast. Getting dressed after eating is merely an exercise in muscle memory, after she manages to locate clean garments. Nothing fancy or ceremonial is required, allowing her to slip on her usual, familiar attire. 

Old habits really do die hard. She steps out of the room in less than half an hour. 

Even outside of her mercenary roots, there is a routine of sorts here. 

Before she had entered the monastery walls on a sunny day years ago—her father ahead and three young lords beside her—Byleth would never have considered herself someone who ever really felt nostalgia. 

Now she emerges out to the open, crisp air and takes a deep inhale. A smile threatens again, her eyes relaxing into the sun's warm greeting—light blending red to yellow to the first cracks of blue—in what will be a cloudless day.

For the first time in over eight years, Garreg Mach Monastery is to be occupied by Fódlan's future leaders. There are even a handful of new students already sleeping within the dorms, having arrived a day or two early. During the war the monastery had been a shell of itself, even when there had been an army calling it home between marches to battlefields. It’s rewarding to see the classrooms and stone walls restored. There are new plants sprouting in the greenhouse. New stained glass reflecting in the windows. New students breathing steadily in new beds. A place to offer growth and sanctuary once more; an academy for the studious and the cathedral for the faithful. 

A place to rest. 

But as she walks by the open doors of the dining hall, Byleth too easily imagines voices belonging to the last group of students that had walked the grounds drifting out to her on the wind. Shouted greetings. A hesitant, quietly-spoken question. A charming laugh. 

Some of them she would be hearing—seeing—over the next few hours. 

Some of them no longer drew breath at all. 

A young knight smiles at her outside the council room. “Everyone seems to be arriving early.” 

Byleth nods. “Eager for everything to go well.” 

The knight opens the door. 

Byleth exhales, smiling at the voices within. 

Peace is a thing that they will not take for granted. 

Before she came here, Byleth may not have valued it as much as she should. 

Today she remembers the lives that have been lost, the ones she wants to protect, and why what they have now is so important. 

A new day begins. 

The world holds its breath.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you for reading!
> 
> In Time's Flow was a really unique and inspiring project to be a part of, a real showcasing of fandom talent! If you haven't taken a listen (and look), do so!


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